All Good Things Must Die (Wizarding Short Stories 4)
by Lady Yvaine
Summary: "They aren't gone- not really." Within this book you will find a collection of short stories dedicated to those we've lost, featuring the survivors they've left behind as they mourn and move on from tragedy. These stories are in remembrance of the lost.


**For Fred Weasley**

George Weasley and Angelina Johnson both mourned Fred Weasley, George's twin, in different, but equally profound ways. George Weasley lost his brother, best friend, business partner, and soulmate all at once. Angelina lost the man whom she considered her first, and possibly last, love. Angelina Johnson and Fred Weasley had envisaged for themselves a future after the war's end: one in which they would never be parted, if either of them had any say in the matter. The pair assumed they would settle down someday, pop out a handful of loud, quidditch-obsessed children, plant a weed-riddled vegetable patch, and persist on decades of laughter and affectionate cursing. But, as fate would have it, George Weasley's and Angelina Johnson's eventual _happily ever after_ would not include Fred Weasley-at least, not directly.

Naturally, George Weasley and Angelina Johnson comforted each other after Fred's death- after all, the three had been friends and teammates long before Fred and Angelina began a romantic relationship. Years spent playing quiddich for the Gryffindor team, along with their time as members of Dumbledore's Army, bonded them as lifelong allies and friends. George relied upon Angelina for support and commiseration in the wake of his twin's passing. She, in turn, relied upon George to make her laugh when she wfelt especially low as well as to reminisce about Fred's innumerable misadventures.

A few years after the Battle of Hogwarts, as the two trudged through the back garden of the Burrow, George took in a long, shaky breath and knelt before Angelina, his face pale and taut.

Angelina halted abruptly, her gaze cast somewhere over his shoulder. "What are you doing, George?"

George blinked, a faint, if somewhat nervous, smile on his face. "Well, what does it look like I'm doing, batty woman?" When she failed to reply, George shot to his feet, his shoulders caving inward, crowding around his scarlet ears. "You could've just said no and been done with it, Angelina," he muttered.

"You know I can't love you as much as I love him," she whispered, her dark eyes shiny with moisture she only just kept at bay. Behind her eyes, images of Fred haunted her, still. His laughing face thrown into stark relief against the setting sun as they strolled by the lake on the grounds of Hogwarts. His red hair falling away from his eyes as she kissed the tip of his nose. Their hands linked only days before the second of May- _that_ second of May. Always Fred when she closed her eyes at night. She couldn't, and wouldn't allow herself to, forget him.

Placing a finger under her chin, George tilted Angelina's face until their eyes met. "I know," he said simply.

Angelina blinked, her eyes flying wide with relief.

"I'll never love you as much as I love him." George examined her with caution, taking in every subtle shift that passed across her face. "But I do love you, Angelina: know that, too. Fred was my brother-my twin. But you-"he broke off, dropping his hand.

Unwelcome tears streamed silently down Angelina's warm cheeks as she stared purposefully back at the man who was Fred's twin, but very little else in the way of being her Fred. "Good," she said firmly. "Then I will marry you. I think he would want us happy, and I'm happiest when I'm with you, George. Even though it hurts to be around you for fear I'll forget every little thing that made him _my_ Fred- that my memories of him will fade, only to be replaced with ones of his twin brother. And even though I know you aren't the same man, sometimes, when I look at you...I see him in you: In the way you laugh, throwing back your head; in the way you tease Percy about his fancy Ministry job; in the way you wind up your mum at the dinner table. But you," Angelina swiped at her eyes with the back of a hand before continuing. "I love you, too, George-maybe not in the same way I love him," at this, she shrugged. "But he would want us to at least try-to attempt to be happy without-" she broke off to draw in a long, shuddering breath.

George slipped an arm around her quaking shoulders, easily tucking her against his chest. Angelina leaned against him gratefully, "We'll remember him. I promise we'll remember him." He rubbed gentle circles into her back. His arms did not loosen until she slept against his side as they hid in the long grass. Her face was bereft of any lingering moisture and a weak smile slanted across her relaxed face.

They married the following summer. After more than a dozen arguments, countless sleepless nights, and a half dozen broken plates, Angelina finally consented to give "the whole parenting thing" a go. Once she laid eyes upon her firstborn, a boy she and George unanimously agreed to call Fred, Angelina knew she found her home. Moments after Fred's birth, Angelina burst into loud, incoherent sobs, though she swore her husband to silence- death threats may or may not have been issued.

Fred II was inky just entering primary school when his younger sister, Roxanne, was born. As Angelina brushed back a dark lock of hair from her squalling newborn's red face with one hand and held the sticky hand of her son in the other, she found that she did not regret the decision she made years ago. Angelina felt the fragile flutter of hope in her chest for the first time since the end of the war.

George, for his part, finally felt at peace as he drank in the sight of his wife and children. With all he had endured marring his past: the regrets, and remorse, and rage, George now looked forward with tentative anticipation. He and Angelina had created a little family of their own. And Fred, though absent, would always be a part of it- and a part of him, as well.

 **Author's Note:**

This is the full version of an extract that was posted on my old tumblr page. Do not go and read it. That post was utter rubbish- not that this is any better, but it's at least the full version. Please tell me what you think of this piece by leaving a review for me to read. This story features a controversial situation. A portion of people to whom I've spoken do not support the canon relationship of George and Angelina because, I'm sure you remember, Fred and Angelina were iconically an item- at least during part of book 4. Those people bring up valid points regarding this pairing-one of the most notable being that George and Fred, while identical, are not the same person, and so are not interchangeable. I wrote this short story not only to honor Fred's death, but also as a means to offer the circumstances under which I believe Angelina and George would come together romantically. Is it pretty? No, you but grief has a power of its own.

Hopefully this maladroit Drabble of sorts made you feel something. All reviews are appreciated, as usual. Be sure to follow this book for more gut-wrenching tales

I have an idea for a short story surrounding Teddy Lupin and Victoire, so if you are interested, indicate that by leaving it in a review.

Until next time!


End file.
